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Twelve Curien; >:]
Topic Started: Apr 23 2008, 12:03 PM (470 Views)
Lord TopHat
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There is no honour in prison. Only Shivalry.
And now we present... another HHS profile.

Hyakuji 2.0 Template

Character Name: Jack Prometheus (AHA FORESHADOWING)
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 103 lbs. (didn't do no research on appropriate weight ufufufufufu)
Description or Image of Character Appearance: Jack is tall and athletic, with crimson eyes and dark hair swept over one eye. He wears a black trenchcoat and jeans, with a gothic shirt and gothic chains around one wrist. His eyes are always stern and burn with a fire that intimidates even the bravest of hearts. (Hooo yes, there go the assumptions)
Occupation: High school Student / Demon Hunter
Grade Level: 10
Powers/ Abilities:
Jack can control and create fire, and is able to throw streams or bolts of flames at opponents. He himself is immune to flames (and trolls and even noobs harharhar), and can cover his fists in flames to punch at opponents. His power allows him to burn and melt even thick metals such as titanium and...



...

......

Oh, ho ho. You really expected me to post a char like that? Not on yer life. Nor am I gonna use the template generic wording, if I may. And yes, I may. :3

HOOOO YES, LET'S MAKE A PROFILE, L-TH STYLE, BOYS 'N GIRLS.


WE INTERRUPT THE ABOVE HOPELESS PROFILE FOR MANY KILOBYTES OF ARROGANT AND QUITE POSSIBLY UNFUNNY BULLSH*T. KINDLY FORGIVE LORD-TOPHAT FOR ANY OFFENSE HE MAY CAUSE AS HE CERTAINLY DOES NOT WANT YOU MAILING HIM FLESH-EATING FERRETS IN A HILARIOUSLY VIOLENT ACT OF REVENGE.


Hyakuji Template 3.2.34 of the 21st Century:


And so, Lord TopHat was all like, 'LET THERE BE':

Josh Blake Trent Crawford ...Twelve? Works for me...

Twelve Curien


Now, the name Twelve is kinda androgynous... but nevertheless he'll be:

Male

Totally not boozing anytime soon:

Age 15

Objects in the mirror may be shorter than they appear:

5'6"

You know the policy on High School RPs... NO FATTIES:

57 kg

I swear I saw his face on Interpol's most wanted:

Posted Image

Without his top-hat (gasp), and looking as serious as he could hope to.

What's yer Jawb?:

High School Student / Amateur Magician

Getting this Far by Luck Alone:

Grade 9

Powers/ Abilities:

Magician Tricks
Card tricks, knotted hanky-lines... all stuff done by trick of the eye and sleight-of-hand. All for fun, no significant battle purpose. Admittedly, his repertoire of tricks is far from extensive.


Top-hat space
The slightly worn, black top-hat Twelve forever wears bears a pocket dimension inside it, from where he is able to store a limited amount of things. He always keeps his school supplies inside, and there is enough space for one long object and a few small items in addition. Usually, he keeps his multicoloured umbrella in the 'long slot' and things such as a deck of cards in the 'small item' slots. Anything sharp inserted would pierce his hat and ruin it.

Conjurer's Bloodline
Possibly the only thing going for Twelve is that he is the (unworthy) inheritor of a phenomenally powerful Magician gene, passed on from his father. As with most things, Twelve has not properly embraced his birthright to give him access to even a fraction of its potential power; his permanently scatterbrained disposition happily blocks the poor boy from being able to concentrate long enough to do anything useful.
The basic mechanics of Conjuration is to create things out of thin air, or to alter the surroundings; a rabbit from a hat, a flight of doves, an endlessly long ribbon and a sudden snowfall are rather common tricks among less naturally-gifted Conjurers. The more powerful of their ilk are able to cause spectacular events such as turning day to night, making a house and its appliances clean by themselves or to vanish in the flutter of a coattail.
Perhaps it is unkind to say Twelve is TOTALLY useless at this art. Currently, he can barely do anything with mere thought, but has spent his time devising several rather naive (yet effective) ways to force himself to imagine the magic effects he wishes to create...

---Nursery Rhymes 1: Mother Goose--
The good, wholesome nursery rhymes young Twelve was brought up on by his good-natured mother were generally inane, but several of them were of some use to him when he found he could recreate some aspect of them by reciting them and activating his conjuration ability. He could technically do anything with any nursery rhyme, but the effects would be minimal and mostly for fun (as in, not fit for battle or whatever). Mostly, Twelve uses his knowledge of these fun little poems to practice 'fun' conjuration.

---Nursery Rhymes 2: Struwwelpeter--
Twelve's father has always had a sense of humour. A wicked one. And in light of that, the eccentric magical master himself read tales from the German book of Struwwelpeter to little Twelve as bedtime stories.
Needless to say, the traumatised little kid did not sleep a lot in his earlier days, but he sure as hell remembered the ghastly stories. In fact, he remembered them very well, and only a few days after stumbling across the concept of aiding his conjuration with nursery rhymes, the rather darker thought of using Struwwelpeter rhymes entered his head. The images created by the stories have always been quite unpleasantly vivid, and that coupled with their negativity allows Twelve to use them to conjure rather nasty or violent effects. Due to the length of the rhymes, he can only remember one or two, and it takes a longer time to conjure the desired effect. These are the only ones he can do anything with at the moment...

[Horrible Rhyme 1: Paulina & the Matches]
Arguably the most dreadful story in the book, Twelve uses the rather stark image of a girl burning to death to create a handful of burning, rolled-up ribbons that he can toss, causing them to unwind as they fly through the air and burn what they fall upon. The flames only last for moments, but accompanied with the flames are the nauseating, eerie smell of burning hair that could distract or sicken an opponent.

[Horrible Rhyme 2: Flying Robert]
Although slightly more benign than the previous tale, Twelve still effectively uses this story of a man blown away by a fierce wind, to take to the air for brief periods of time, using the lovely and colourful umbrella he carries in the confines of his top hat to be breezily lifted into the air like an annoying Mary Poppins knockoff. He can currently ascend up to six meters in the air, and keep aloft for a short while (one turn ascent, two turns flying, one turn descent). He cannot control his path very well aside from his initial jump, and is very subject to wind currents carrying him off-course. If he has a running start, he can determine the initial direction he flies in; if he simply hops into the air, the wind decides. (Aeromancers, START YOUR ENGINES. >:D)


What has it Gots in its Pocketses? :3 :

-Trademark Top-hat, standardly Containing:
--x1 Multicolour Umbrella, x2 Decks of Cards, School supplies.

Tseuqer Ycnidires:

Yuki

Schedule:

Homeroom: Hiro
1st: Supernatural Studies
2nd: Gym
LUNCH
3rd: History

Personality Description:

Twelve, by nature, is a wonderfully positive-minded boy who finds some degree of intrigue or interest in everything around him. He loves to learn new things, and generally is like a sponge when it comes to finding things out regardless of whether he understands it or not (most of the time, not). His inquisitive nature is offset quite neatly, Unfortunately, by his somewhat weak grasp of academia and anything technical... meaning that his range of understanding extends into the superficial only. Because of this, he is able to ask rapid series of 'what's that/what's this do?', have them answered in a way he couldn't hope to ever understand and then (failing to grasp the prior concept) move on to inquire about something else that catches his eye. Despite all this, however, Twelve has a rather fine-tuned awareness of intrinsic things such as human empathy and common sense, and can be quite insightful when he wants to be.
Twelve is also known for having the worst luck imaginable, at the wrong times. Things sometimes just go wrong for the boy, and when they do it happens in enormous measures. Granted, the situations would be avoided if Twelve listened to his instincts for a change, but it is nevertheless clear that Fortune favours him not. Even in the face of such rotten luck, though, Twelve always manages to get up, dust himself off and tell himself that his luck will change soon. Slight awkwardness and a strange contraction-less way of speaking are part of his everyday way of life. He is somewhat naive, but in that sense he is also sincere and loyal to his friends. Twelve tries to avoid conflicts as much as possible, and opts rather to stop a fight or escape rather than retaliate if he's forced into one.

His Story (ARGH PUN):

The Curien family has been noted in Hyakuji High School’s records as some of the most forthright, able and intelligent students ever to pass through its halls. The reputation began thirty years ago with the then-teenage Auric Curien, a British student noted for his incredible potential to weave magic; within him he carried an intensely lucid set of Conjurer’s genes, which he was able to grasp and use to its full potential. Meeting and sharing a first-time romantic relationship with the remarkable (if not somewhat… eccentric) young man was an American student by the name of Lydia Enfield, who herself possessed a supernatural healing ability, and in later years would go on to marry Auric and return to England with him. Following quite astounding business success in Auric and Lydia’s subsequent years and having two children (Myra and Shane Curien) bearing hybridized powers of their parents, they too were sent across the oceans to make their marks at Hyakuji High School. Both proved to be highly successful, despite the increasing violence and dangers that began to accumulate around the best-kept-secret high school.

Twelve’s advent into the world had a significantly larger time-gap between his and his siblings’ than that of his siblings’ of each others’. To put light to that infuriatingly crisscrossed statement, the boy was born quite a few years after his brother and sister (to be exact, nine years after Myra’s birth in 1984 and seven years after Shane’s birth in 1986). Things proved to be rough from Twelve’s early years; despite having a sound genetic history of academic prowess, he failed to grasp basic mathematics, literacy or anything requiring something sensible to be put down on paper. However, his father, eager to spot something that the boy was adept at, noticed Twelve had a rare ability for insight and lateral thought for his age. Symbolism and riddles were easy for Twelve, and while his on-paper language skills were nothing short of shocking, he was rather advanced in speaking well (minus some of his predictably absent-minded mix-ups).

Still, in comparison to the raw intellectual power of Auric or the intelligence of Lydia and his siblings, Twelve was an academic disaster. As he grew into adolescence, his ability to do schoolwork never improved and he was made an inevitable outcast at his school for his curious disposition and awkwardness. Well, at least it seemed like awkwardness. Auric could see budding eccentricity, which he knew full-well was a psychological tie-in to a person bearing pure Conjurer genes. When it became apparent that Twelve did indeed have the same earthshaking amount of Conjurer potential that his father had mastered, their relationship grew particularly strong as Auric (now in his forties) planned to cultivate him to become all that he could be. For one, Auric sat Twelve down every day and forced such cosmic amounts of language-learning that the boy’s ability to read and write well couldn’t help but improve; he also tried to teach him how his Conjuring powers worked, to draw out the ability in him. Solo street performances were regular in the regime set out for Twelve, and through that alone he at least learnt the mechanics of his birthright. While nothing enormous happened, Twelve’s uselessness was put to an end, if only just, as he was equipped with at least some semblance of aptitude.

However, Auric knew he was no teacher, and after careful consideration and speaking with his wife, he decided to double-back on his original idea to not send Twelve to Hyakuji like his other children, who had already graduated. Besides, they had no reason not to send him anymore, as it turned out that he did have a supernatural talent… and a useable one at that. At age 15, Twelve said goodbye to his home and left for Hyakuji as the rest of his family had done, to try and prove himself to be just as apt as any of them.



And Now for something Completely Different:

”Yes, Gentlemen and Ladies! Prepare to see the greatest magic show unfold before your own eyes! I, the great and mysterious Twelve have the powers to defy reality itself, indeed I do! Be entertained and amazed, [smaller]or at least mildly amused[/smaller] for only a minute of your time!”

It was about the fifth time Twelve had used his patented sales-pitch, as well as the fifth time he’d said ‘Gentlemen and Ladies’ instead of ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’ that day. Of course, the boy himself was completely oblivious to it, more aware of the fact that absolutely no-one had stopped or barely even given him a second glance. The street-corner he’d chosen was decidedly a good one for once, attracting a fair amount of pedestrian traffic with enough background noise to ensure that Twelve’s loud bids for attention couldn’t count as disturbing the peace.

And yet, he still wasn’t making any progress… at least no-one was avoiding him, but they still ignored him deftly. What more could he do? There wasn’t a busier street in Tokyo he could work at without getting into trouble, and he didn’t want to move on to Hyakuji yet, to begin his enrollment there… he’d take the train there tomorrow, if all was to go well. Placing his previously-waved about top-hat back into his raven-haired head, Twelve leaned back against the cracked brick-wall behind him and took to a bit of logical thinking. It was something he wasn’t particularly good at, but it was worth a shot.

The brim of his beloved hat crept about the upper edges of his vision, pressing his fringe into his eyes slightly. Twelve glanced up, thin arms still crossed… before he sprang back into an upright stand, mind suddenly focused on an idea any other street-performer would have thought essential. “I will advertise!”

With one wheeling swipe, the fifteen-year-old conjurer whipped his top-hat off, and rapped on its brim with his other hand’s knuckles. As his fingers made contact with the headwear, the black felt hardened into tin, producing a loud clinkaclink that stopped one or two pedestrians in their tracks, watching him for a moment quizzically. Twelve stepped forward to keep their attention, his top-hat already changed back into felt as he donned it with a long-practiced flourish. Not that the flourish was very interesting or well-performed… Twelve had just needed to practice a lot to get it right…

“I thank you for your attention!” Twelve began, his not-very-deep-at-all voice barely stumbling over the words. He was far too excited; given this was his first audience out on the streets. Ever. Lifting his hat to pivot back with the crown of his head as a fulcrum, Twelve reached into the inky depths of it and grabbed a loose sheet of paper he’d been saving for an act. Now he just needed to decide what his act was going to be.

Another passer-by stopped, as the paper caught the light of the sun and involuntarily caused her to glance in his direction. Having been silent and looking down for the past moment, Twelve’s youthful face lit up again as he formed a plan. “Observe, one normal sheet of paper, Gentlemen and Ladies; also, note that there is nothing up my sleeves.”

Well, naturally… they were rolled-up. Twelve ignored his own idiocy and continued. “Who believes I can turn this sheet of paper into a flight of flying swallows?”

The few that were watching him remained skeptically silent and nonplussed at the redundancy of saying ‘flight of flying’. With a wry/nervous smile, Twelve dropped onto his haunches and began to tear the paper into thin strips. A few eyebrows raised in mild surprise, as the possibility of origami was ruled out. From there, Twelve quickly closed both hands on the strips, crumpling them up and throwing them about within his cupped palms. He needed to think now… this was where the whole thing either astounded or miserably disappointed…

Swallows… swallows… what does a swallow look like, again? The boy lamented his lack of foresight, while giving what he hoped was a reassuring grin to his ‘audience’. Instead, the expression came out apologetic and wan. I had better hope these people do not know what they look like, either… and just make similar-looking birds…

Sparrow, starling, finch, pigeon, DUCK. Why he’d thought of it, even he didn’t know. Ducks were possibly the least swallow-like birds on the planet. But the image of the flat-billed water-fowls and its physiology was so clear in his mind that before he could try and concentrate on a more appropriate bird, he felt the cool glow of his Conjurer powers working, and within a moment or two he could feel the papery waddle of a half-dozen or so magically-alive avians in his cupped hands.

“Ta-da!” Twelve whooped in faked triumph, the still-active Conjuration effects altering his words into a Real "Ta-Da" sound as he opened his hands and hoped for the best. As he’d expected, a squadron of inch-tall, paper-formed ducks, complete with tiny flecks of paper molting off them in place of feathers, marched onto the sidewalk and began to walk about in aimless directions, quacking with high-pitched, tiny voices as the accumulated crowd of now ten-odd people stared in stunned disbelief. They continued to watch, dumbstruck, the sheer impossibility of it all only humorously overridden when one of the paper ducks wandered into a sidewalk-drain and fell between the bars with a surprised ”waaaakk?”. Shaken out of their trance but still amazed, the pedestrians clapped and some even began to reach for their wallets.

“But… but it was not a flight of swallows…” Twelve began to protest, still annoyed at his inability to visualize properly as several of the audience moved forward to give him the money of the country, Yen. He tried to decline, but before he could do anything one of them had pressed a colorful bill of currency into his hand, leaving the others to do the same. He hardly heard the approval the people spoke, unaware of the fact that people weren’t used to seeing such things as real magic, and was still left wondering why they hadn’t booed him as his former audience moved off into the street again, a small wad of cash loosely clutched in one hand.

“…Not as if I am complaining,” The fiteen-year-old finally said with a small, bewildered grin, and prepared for his next street-act.




Mashed Potatoes?

Yes please. I mean, "The Proof is in the Pudding".


Edited by Amaya, Apr 30 2008, 09:49 PM.
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Hiro_Tsukasa
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NICE DRIVE!
I had to take some time to consider this one cause you have waaaaay too many powers.... but I like the concept and they all work together....

So I decided that since this character falls under the Laughter Area (*is totally using the Jump Super/Ultimate Stars categories for characters: Power/Knowledge/Laughter*) I'll allow it. But be warned... forsake this act of kindness and know the pain!

APPROVED!
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